Solace
by mentalagent13
Summary: Takes place after Red John in the future. There can't always be sun, but after the storm sometimes it shines brighter. Rated T just in case.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Takes place after Red John has been caught (I have ideas on how that will be done). As much as I adore these two I can't really see a relationship going anywhere until after Red John is gone. Anyway, thanks for reading (reviews are also appreciated).

-P.S. This has a few POV switches.

**Disclaimer:** I own absolutely nothing (except some DVDs, but who doesn't?)

**Solace**

It was difficult for her to focus today. There were no leads on the current case, and everyone else had left. She was essentially left to her own devices. It was something to be happy about, instead she was lonely.

She has sent them all out into the field volunteering to stay behind and follow up. Her insufferable consultant/husband knew that something was different. She still wasn't able to hide much from him. Thankfully, he had not commented he only gave her his signature questioning look. She simply met his eyes giving him all the reassurance he needed. They were masters at the art of unspoken communication. He nodded as he followed Van Pelt to the elevators.

Now, she was left in her office, not ten minutes later, feeling inexplicably lonely. Disgusted with her reaction, she decided to go get some coffee. Out in the break room, she ran into a few other agents and they exchanged the usual pleasantries. Feeling a little better after human contact her office began to call to her. There was a stack of paperwork she needed to try to get through. Paperwork Jane had given her.

He sat beside Cho silently taking in the scenery. Cho would glance over at Jane every once in awhile debating whether or not to ask his question. Finally, he couldn't wait any longer (plus Jane's silence was very awkward). "What's up with Boss?" Cho asked.

"For once Cho, I have no idea," Jane replied honestly. To say that Cho was surprised by this would be an understatement. Jane prided himself in knowing what everyone was thinking. If the man didn't know something about his wife then there was definitely something up.

They arrived at the crime scene shortly after their brief conversation. The focus changed to the dead man in front of them. Cho and Rigsby went to work on the body leaving Van Pelt with Jane. One look in Jane's direction told her everything she needed to know.

Her office eventually became too much. The space that had once offered comfort to her had become what it was before. It was only a room. Sighing, she drifted to the empty bullpen. She sat down on Jane's couch lost in thought.

Her rational side kept telling her to talk to the man that had become distant as of late. He wasn't reading her well and had generally avoided her at work. He was still wonderful with the twins, in fact he took care of them more than she did half the time. They were sleeping through the night most of the time now, and that was a blessing. The only problem was he left at night. For two nights now he left just after the twins fell asleep. He would be back by the time they woke up, and she would find him in the living room or making breakfast or getting the twins ready for the day. By the time she came downstairs the car seats were already in her SUV.

Their morning routine hadn't changed. They would eat breakfast and he would leave for work. It was her responsibility to take them to the daycare in the morning, and Jane picked them up after work in the afternoon. He had the extra set of keys to her SUV (sadly, she had to sell her Mustang) so he could get the car seats after work. She still cringed every now and then thinking of those children in his deathtrap of a car.

She knew it was going to be difficult. Nothing she had ever done in her life was easy. Of course she blamed the twins solely on him; he was usually in complete control. After Red John, he had been lost, and she had been lost without him. Truthfully, she wouldn't trade that night for anything.

She sighed and leaned back into the cushions. Her work was calling her yet again. If she really wanted to get out of the office on time today she would have to get all of her Jane paperwork done. Finally realizing that nothing could be done until the team returned, she trudged back to her office to at least make a dent in her mountain of paperwork.

Cho had not allowed Jane to ride back to the CBI with the suspect. He knew better. At first, Jane had pouted a bit at being denied his fun, but quickly enough Jane got over it (only after Cho promised him he could be in the interrogation room). Gleefully, Jane sat in the passenger seat looking much like a toddler with a new toy. Cho could swear that man acted more like a child than his children did.

"You figure out what's up with Boss yet?" Cho asked. He was rewarded with the smile disappearing from Jane's face. Something was definitely not right if Cho could have this effect on him. Now slightly curious, Cho patiently waited for Jane's response.

"Haven't quite figured that one out," Jane said. Cho could tell Jane was lost in thought, his head no longer on the case. Cho was satisfied that the rest of their ride back to the CBI would be in silence.

Rigsby escorted the suspect up to interrogation and promptly started grilling the man. Jane watched from the corner of the room waiting for the man to slip-up. He knew the man was the killer, but they had to get a confession because all the other evidence was shoddy at best. Circumstantial evidence he could work with, but the few facts they had now would leave a judge laughing in their faces. Oh, Jane knew a few underhanded ways of getting a confession, yet he did not want to use them. Lisbon could use a break from all the paperwork he had been giving her lately.

For the first time in his life, Patrick Jane decided to get the confession legally. That thought alone astounded him. Gathering himself, he sat down beside the suspect. It took him an hour, but eventually the man crumbled and confessed. Rigsby looked at Jane like he had two heads. Jane just waved Rigsby off and said his good nights. If he left now he could make it to the daycare by 4:30. They closed at 5 today because of the safety inspections being done on the place.

**A/N:** What do you think? Review if you want more!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I own absolutely nothing *sobs*

**A/N: ** Thank you for all of the lovely reviews! I am very grateful for all the comments and encouragement.Here is the second part!

Lisbon watched him leave. He would get an extra hour with the twins because he had come to work early like he usually did. Of course, that was how it worked. She wouldn't trade her mornings and she knew he loved his afternoons with them. Cho walked into her office and she visibly flinched, waiting for the stack of paperwork that would inevitably be placed on her desk. She was pleasantly surprised to find out that Jane had been very well-behaved. For some reason she expected him to be even more out of control that usual. Now that most of her work was done she could get home on time (a rare occurrence).

She left the office promptly at 5pm. While the SUV she owned was not nearly as powerful as the Mustang, it served its purpose. God knows Jane's deathtrap was not a family vehicle. On days like today, she missed her Mustang. She looked in her review mirror at the empty back seats. It was odd not seeing the car seats that usually took up residence there. She had never really paid attention to the back seats on her way home because there was no one there, but today was different. Today, the emptiness of those seats reminded her of the emptiness of the house the past two nights.

She pulled into the driveway of the house they had bought 6 months ago; 4 months before they got married. Twins in her small townhouse had not gone well. By that time, Jane had sold his house in Malibu and they could afford a nice place closer to work. She took a deep breath and put a smile on her face for her one year old twins.

Upon entering the house, she heard two giggling children, but saw no sign of her husband. The keys to his car were not hung on the key hook by the door (that had been put up after Chris had tried to chew a set of keys she could have sworn were in her pocket). It had become the unspoken rule that all car keys were either hung on a hook or zippered safely in her purse. Jane's missing keys spoke volumes at that moment.

"Hello, Teresa," she heard the greeting, but couldn't find the source of the voice. She cautiously walked toward the kitchen, forgetting about the weapon holstered at her hip. She squatted down to her daughter's level once she reached the blanket the two children were on. Almost immediately, the little girl began to reach for the new found object. Quickly, Lisbon stood, much to the Ashlyn's distress. She took the weapon out of its holster and placed it in the safe by the front door.

She felt, rather than heard, him creep up behind her. His arms encircled her waist in an intimate gesture that she had admittedly missed over the past few days. He was gone a quickly as he had come, leaving her feeling slightly cold, and a little more lonely. She heard Chris scream something from the kitchen and she knew it was dinner time. That boy never did want to get into his high chair. Ashlyn was probably waiting to be put in her high chair, much more patiently than her brother ever could. Chattering to the girl, Lisbon picked her daughter up and managed to get Ashlyn situated before Jane even got Chris half way into his chair. She couldn't help but laugh a little as she distracted Chris so Jane could finish getting the boy into the hated chair.

Dinner was an uneventful affair and bath time also went smoothly. They managed to get Chris to bed at the normal time. Ashlyn, on the other hand, decided that she was not tired and begged for her mother. An hour later a very tired Lisbon descended the stair case. Ashlyn had taken to screaming every time Lisbon had tried to give her to her father. The girl was horrible when it came to bed time.

She looked to the couch once she reached the living room. There her husband lay, stretched out taking up the entire thing. Silently, she entered the room and positioned herself between the front door and her husband. This was usually the time he left without so much as a good-bye.

He opened his eyes, but chose not to move. Her body language screamed to him how tense she was. He wanted to help her, he really did, now just wasn't the time. He could see how tired she was and there was a hint of something else, something darker, deeper. He watched and slowly he identified the circling hurt and confusion that was barely contained in her gaze. Every once in awhile a ball of fear would erupt from behind her green eyes overpowering every other emotion, only to be squelched almost immediately. Even around him, emotions were something she didn't readily acknowledge, but that was his wife through and through.

"What is it, Teresa?" he asked, deciding he had all night to wait for her reply.

"Why do you leave, Patrick? For two nights now, you have left," she answered and steadied her stance. He saw the determination in her eyes. He wasn't leaving until she got her answer. He wouldn't be able to get past her even if he wanted to. She was an immoveable force when she had the mind to be. Her body size never once fooled him, and it never would.

"I come back, don't I?" his answer laced with an unforeseen anger on his part. He saw her mentally take a step back, while her body remained stock still. He could tell she hadn't expected that tone of voice from him. For an instant, a look of confusion marred her features. She collected herself quickly and shot back her response, fast and mean.

"You think that two years ago I wanted this?" she said as she waved her hands, indicating the house that they were currently living in. "I do not need you, Patrick Jane. I can take care of myself and my children without you. I didn't ask you to move in with me. I didn't ask you to marry me. I never expected you to be there for them. I would have understood if you had left. _You_ chose to stay. _You_ chose all of it. Now, you can't leave. You can't back out now because you are in too deep. They need you Patrick, I didn't."

She ranted and paced in a four step area in front of the door. He could feel her irritation coming out in waves off of her small frame. She didn't stop pacing, even after she had stopped talking. Finally, she turned to look at him and he purposefully didn't meet her gaze for long. He couldn't comprehend her words. He wanted to be with her and now she was trying to push him away. He wasn't going to stand for that.

**A/N:** What do you think? This is my first multi-chapter so any opinions help. I want all of them.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Here comes the last part!

**Disclaimer:** Alas I still don't own it

He sat up to look at her when he spoke. His eyes were fixed on hers as he built his wall in record time. He refused to hear her words. He almost refused to respond. His anger at her statement was very close to boiling point. The words he was about to speak were not going to be thought out and nice. No. This was going to be truth and lies seared together to hurt her as much as she had hurt him.

"They are _my_ children too, Teresa." He said, the venom in his voice evident. "If I remember correctly, you didn't exactly shy away from that night either. I did what any decent man would do. I stayed. I also remember the fact that everything I did you agreed upon _before_ any of it happened. Everything I asked, you replied with yes. Do not blame all of this on me. Any mistake that I have made, you have also made."

He instantly regretted his final words, but couldn't take them back once spoken. He watched her face change from one of concern to one of anger to one of something all the more powerful. His last words had hit home to her. Her emotions were escalating; a blind man could see that. He didn't move after his outburst, he didn't want to. He waited for her to speak. That's how all their fights had gone. Both craved control so much that yelling at each other was something they never did, even in the most heated of arguments. Her reply sliced through his already fragile heart like a knife, much worse than any words she could have yelled.

"Our kids are _not_ a mistake," she said though clenched teeth. She was seething with barely contained anger. She took one step toward him to emphasize her point. He didn't move, only watched her. She stepped back to her original position by the door. He watched as she fought her inner battle trying to decide her next comment. It didn't take long, but what she said carried more meaning then it had the first time.

"They are _not_ a mistake, Patrick," she repeated. He voice cracked slightly the second time she said it. It was almost as though she was trying to convince herself. He recognized the look on her face, in her eyes. Her body language screaming _I am not going to cry_. God, he wanted her to cry more than he should have. He wanted the tears to fall, wanted her to show that emotion because she rarely ever did. Instead, he took a deep breath allowing some of his anger to abate a small amount.

"No…no, they are not a mistake," he conceded. He put his head in his hands and released the breath he was holding. He couldn't look at her while he calmed himself down. She was the reason he was angry and until he managed to breathe normally, looking at her would only make it worse. He could feel her gaze on him. After a few minutes he felt her gaze soften. Slowly, he looked up at her to meet her unwavering stare.

She found his eyes at the same instant that he found hers. She studied him more than she usually did. It was usually hard to read his true emotions. He looked older somehow. His face was drawn and there were deep dark circles under his eyes. His body told her how absolutely worn out he was when he had moved to look at her. She mimicked his earlier action and took a deep breath. Her anger also began to diminish a little as her gaze became less intense.

"I miss them, Teresa," he said when he finally spoke. "I miss them every day. I didn't stay because I didn't want to hurt you, or the kids. The past two nights I slept in my car, no more than a block from this house. My mind wouldn't stop. I know Red John is dead. I know I can't bring them back. I know all of this, and yet I still hope."

She saw the pain and despair he felt in his eyes. She knew now she was seeing him as she had never seen him before. He was being completely honest with her. Trusting her with information he would rather not give. There was something comforting, but also frightening about this revelation. The real question was: why had he finally told her? What did it mean? These questions danced through her mind threatening to be spoken aloud. Somehow, she managed to keep them inside.

"Over these past two nights, I learned something else…that scares me," he told her. She looked at him her face twisted, hesitating to ask the question. Never before had he ever admitted to being afraid. She was always the one to admit to fear and she had only done that on two occasions. The first being when she told him she was pregnant, the second when both of the twins had gotten sick for the first time. Now, he was telling her outright that he was afraid; she took another breath to steady herself, waiting for him to continue.

"Teresa," he started, trying and succeeding at finding her gaze once again. Strangely, even after the recent revelation he still managed to comfort her with one look. He cleared his throat to start again. She had heard the slight break in his voice, but didn't allow it to bother her. It had been an emotional day for the both of them; they were both too tired to hide it anymore.

"Teresa," he repeated his voice steadier, "you and the twins were _never_ a replacement. I love you, I love them. There is nothing in the world I want more than to come home to you three every day. I don't know what I would do without you, and I wouldn't change anything even if I could."

The realization of what his words meant for her almost caused her to sit on the floor where she was. Somehow, she managed to force her body to stay upright until she made it to the armchair closest to her. Her legs gave out and she sat heavily on the chair. She saw his look of concern, but chose to ignore it. She was too stunned by her thought process. Too stunned by what he had just said. He had told her he loved her numerous times, and she knew this to be true. She just hadn't expected this, _ever. _ She had him. All of him. Patrick Jane had finally moved on.


End file.
